Aaaaaaaand, here we go. The Penultimate. The Only One Besides "Isn't It Romantic?" That Anyone Cares About This Whole Bloody (FUCKING) Season. Seriously. The writers should've just killed off Brandon, Steve, Kelly, AHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea, Donna, David and Jim in some kind of Melrose Place-ian exploding field trip "accident" and renamed the show Beverly Hills Awesome: With Brenda, Dylan, Coked-Up Jackie, Our Felice and Sometimes Cindy and called it a goddamn day. Alas, this never happened. But pathetic life-failures winners such as myself can continue to dream of this reality. So. Let's hit this.
I...there are no words left. It's not even the end of Season 1 and THERE'S NOTHING LEFT TO SAY. Steve's a pile of puke. Brandon's a pile of puke. I hate them both. What more do you want from me, people?
ANYway, they're walking down the hall talking about some Spring Dance and Revolting Steve with his flesh-colored hair is all, "Oh, Brandon. Spring is in the air and it is driving me crazy. Smell that?" and Brandon asks, "What?" and Steve says, "That sweet, overripe flower scent. Nature's doing its thing and it's turning me into a total dog," because he is the exact opposite of well-adjusted and thinks that anyone of the opposite sex would give him one nano-second of thought, time, breath, attention, regard, consideration. And then Brandon's all, "Down boy," and Steve's all, "Oh, oh, put me on a leash," and then I choked on my own bile and passed out for an hour or five and my boyfriend found me and rushed me to the emergency room and I plan on forwarding all of my medical bills to one Steve "Looks Like A Merkin, But Isn't" SAUNders.
And then they stop dead in the hall and see my Hetero Life Mate Darla Diller, who you might remember as "Janine," Roger "Robert" Azarian's "girlfriend" in Poor Little Rich Boy: The Autobiography of Roger "NO ONE INCLUDING ANYFUCKINGONE CARES" Azarian.
And then Darla walks by and THIS HONEST TO GOD HAPPENS and instead of actually continuing on with this ludicrous scene, I think I will instead write the suicide note I plan to leave behind for my family and friends. But first, I'll give you the nauseating details of Steve telling Brandon that he's already rented a hotel room, AT SIXTEEN, in the hotel where the dance is being held so that he can fuck Darla. Queasy yet? Totally? Yeah, me too.
